Last week I left my front door and security gate standing open for 4 hours.
I think I need to say that again. In italics.
Last week I left my front door and security gate standing open for 4 hours.
I left the house with the girls, Friday decided at the front door that she and her sister needed dolls in the car and went back to get them, I went to the car to strap Sunday in, Friday came out to the car, I got her in and drove away.
If you're not from here you might not get the enormity of how stupid that is. If you are you'll know that's plenty stupid, as well as reckless, and well, just plain blonde.
If you're not from here you might not get how incredibly lucky I am that not a thing was disturbed when I returned.
If you are you'll know that's a bloody miracle.
4 hours and not a thing was taken, not one single sign that anyone had even sniffed around.
That's luck.
On Saturday night I was awoken at 1am by Sunday very quietly and calmly calling me. She does this sometimes and I only half-roused, waiting to see if she really needed me. I must've dozed off again.
Then I heard her calling once more, still very quietly and politely.
Once again I lay still, listening for a bit until I decided she was probably not going back to sleep.
I got up slowly, resignedly, went to the loo first and then finally to her room, where I found my poor baby in a puddle of her own congealing and rapidly cooling vomit.
That's guilt.
Friday's been on holiday since the end of last month. By now we're well into the swing of all being home together - I've made peace with getting much less (read: none) writing done, Sunday is loving having her playmate around all the time, Friday's watched Despicable Me a trillion times (in amongst lots of other stimulating and/or outdoor activities obviously).
Yesterday she told me that she was having the most fun ever. That I was a lovely Mum and she 'loved living with me'.
That's joy.
Luck. Guilt. Joy. Three such Christmassy feelings don't you think?
Love this post. So true.
ReplyDeletei don't know where you're from but i'm only assuming it's sort of like la. so yes. i get the luck.
ReplyDeleteand i can't even imagine finding my daughter crying out quietly. mine does blood curdling screams whenever she wants a glass of water in the middle of the night. i suppose my guilt comes in when i tell her (while half asleep and completely irritated) that her water bottle is on her dresser. NEXT TO HER BED. if she's thirsty, just get up and take a drink.
then i go back to bed and feel like an asshole for getting irritated.
i'm looking forward to the joy.
I think we should make concerted efforts to fight the guilt, but I don't know if we ever stop feeling like assholes!
ReplyDeleteI read somewhere once (maybe even written by you my dear friend C is for Cape Town) that mommy guilt never goes, its just the amount that changes. Knowing this makes me feel much more normal.
ReplyDelete